Ignorance
by chemical violets
Summary: Because ignorance was the mask that Percy wore best. TAGS: Wizarding war / Percy / Arthur / Birthday / childhood / sad / past Rated T for language


**Background:** _I wrote this sometime last year when I was still MaydayParade02 really late at night on a whim, but nobody read it so I deleted it. Now I found it on my computer again and decided to post it. Once again, even though it's been ages, I decided not to proof read it. Is that a dumb decision? Probably. Do I care? … Probably, yea…_

 **Ignorance**

 **By Chemical Violets**

Percy Weasley hated every single celestial being you find in the night sky. Whether that be planets, stars, or the moon. They were all so free and untethered, bound only by the extent of their own limits. Always seeming to dance in the night sky. Always twinkling against the inky blackness as though there would always be a light worth fighting for, waiting for you.

Ever since he was just a 5 year old boy, Percy felt such a strong hate for something that most kids loved. Of course, Percy didn't realize that at the time. Didn't every kid hate the small twinkling lights? Despise them for being so beautiful when the world seemed to be so dark and horrible?

Percy had never been sure whether he hated the celestial bodies or envied them. Then again, were either of them that different? The lines between covert and malice were getting extremely thin, blurring and smudging at the edges. It was so easy to let your jealousy turn to pure disdain, and it pained Percy to think that something people derive such joy from, only brought an onslaught of painful memories.

What Percy couldn't fathom the most, was why they stayed put. They never moved from their shining spot. The night sky was their endless region, no limits to chain them down, to make them stay in the same place in the night sky. Perhaps it was to taunt him. Perhaps they knew how he hated them, how he wished he was as free as them, so they stayed tethered there, to remind him that while he could be free, he wasn't.

He was still tied to that feeling of being oppressed, locked in safe-house after safe-house. Half the people Percy met hadn't even realized that this happened to people. It hadn't affected their lives like it had Percy's. When the war was going on, Percy was young and constantly locked inside the house, so he didn't realize that not everyone was hiding from not only the enemy, but themselves.

The first time he realized that no one had been affected as deeply as him, he was filled with such a rage. It hit him one day in his second year that these people were all so happy. They weren't locked down from the war, they couldn't even care. They were all free like the stars and planets and other twinkling lights that haunted him. So that's all people became to him-human embodiments of celestial beings that were there for no other reason than to haunt him.

Not even his family brought him joy. They were all blissfully forgetful of the war. Bill and Charlie were tucked away safely in Hogwarts. Fred and George were only two and too young to remember. Ron was only about three months old and wouldn't even know there was a war while he was alive if you didn't tell him. He knew his mom and dad still remembered, but it didn't seem to affect them. But who was he to talk? He never let anyone see how deeply it affected him.

The event that had led this pure spite had always remained painfully fresh in the back of his mind, pounded against his skull dully every few hours as though to call out to him, "Hey, I'm still here!" The dreadful irony of it was that this vendetta had first occurred to him on a day that was meant to be happy. His fucking birthday.

Percy's father had gone out of his way to see the twins on their birthday. And then he had been so preoccupied with them that he had hardly noticed Percy. Percy had never really known his dad that well, and now in his mind, birthdays meant his father. And his father meant his father's attention. So Percy began religiously counting down the days to his birthday.

As the day of his birthday drew nearer, Percy found himself sitting with his mother as she fed Ron, asking excitedly if Father would be able to make it for his birthday too. Molly had smiled, kissing his hair as she stood up from her seat.

"Of course he will, Percy."

And when his birthday finally came, Percy found himself waiting by the window from early morning until nearly 9:00 at night. Ron was long asleep, as were the twins, so that left Percy sitting alone on a chair in the kitchen, staring at the night sky. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and looked up expectantly, his blue eyes only filled with disappointment when he realized it was his mother, not the father he so desperately wished to know.

Molly smiled sadly, pulling a chair up next to him and sat down, holding a small plate in front of them, carrying a small cupcake with a single candle with a single candle in it. This was a rare treat, and he knew his mom only wasted their supplies on him because she knew how disappointed he was.

The red-haired woman had coiled her arm around his shoulders, singing the happy birthday song to him gently. He could barely muster a smile as blew out the candle, not bothering to make a wish. His mom kissed his cheek and then stood up, leaving the chocolate pastry on the table.

Percy looked up at the stars. The night before he had wished on every single one his dad would be there, even if just for a few hours. Even just long enough to sing happy birthday to him with his mother and they let him down. And he then realized how much he despised them.

The ginger haired boy finally pulled himself out of the chair, limbs stiff from sitting all day, trying to quell the tears pressing against his bright blue eyes. He left the cupcake sitting on the table, candle wick still emitting wisps of musky smoke. He could have it tomorrow, when he couldn't see the stars.

Percy had curled up in bed that night, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep, yet he kept himself up, hoping his dad would come. It wasn't until nearly midnight he heard the muffled voice of his mom's, sounding very angry as she tried to quell her rage. Percy only caught fragments of the conversation.

"...realize how much... all he wanted is to... even if only for a few minutes!"

"...couldn't get out of... I'm sorry..."

It was then Percy realized his dad had finally arrived. The stars had given him his wish. But what scared him even more than the fear that his father wouldn't come, was the fact that now that he did come, Percy couldn't have cared less. The sky had ripped him apart, then felt guilty and tried to mend it. But once you've been teared you can't be the same.

So it was this thought that powered Percy's next actions. He heard his dad's soft footsteps enter the room where Percy and his siblings slept, drawing closer and closer to his body as the seconds passed. Percy had waited all day for this, but suddenly he didn't want it to happen. So he pretended to be asleep, pretended to be so far gone that his dad's gentle shaking and soft voice couldn't wake him.

Maybe his dad could tell he was faking, maybe he didn't. Even all these years later Percy still couldn't tell. But he always remembered the soft sigh that his father emitted as he hoisted himself off the ground. Always remembered the soft creak of the bed as his present was rested on the thin mattress by his feet. Always remembered waiting until his dad left and then sitting up, picking up the book in his hand and pulling away the blue bow that was tied around it. Always remembered the tears that pricked his eyes as he looked at the words etched into the book on top of a drawing of mountains and forest.

His dad, despite hardly ever talking to him, still knew he loved reading and that he liked books meant for older kids. He didn't know if his dad actually one this, or if his mom told him, but he didn't care. Percy fell asleep that night with the book in his hands.

From that day on until the war was over, he religiously read and reread that same book over and over again. The old 1930s book called the Hobbit. He read the rest of the series as soon as he could get his hands on it but never liked them as much as the first because that one was laced with memories. The only happy memory in eternal sad ones, and even then the edges of it were tinged gray. Still slightly sad. And yet it was still his fondest memory. His fondest possession.

That idea was so sad to Percy. He had multiple memories that were happy, yet his favorite one was tinted with despondency.

Percy remembered the first day he could go outside, the first day he could safely watch the stars, and yet he couldn't enjoy it. The stars had let him down, and even if they tried to amend it, there was only so much they could do, and sadly, often our best is never enough.

Percy had forgiven his dad long ago, but he felt he would never forgive the lights in the sky. They let him down in so many ways. Taunted him, teased him, and assaulted him with painful memories. But still, maybe he didn't hate them, maybe he was just disappointed.

And on a cloudy night, when the stars that Percy had grown to despise couldn't shine their light, couldn't dance through the night sky, Percy found himself crying silently with his arms folded on his windowsill, his glasses discarded, that book he had had for so many years laying by his feet and his face buried in his bent appendages.

He didn't know what he was mourning. Maybe it was the life he never lived he was mourning. Perhaps it was the person he'd become he was mourning. The way he lived now, he was practically dead anyway.

It was then the lines of hate and envy finally cleared out in his mind. He never once hated the stars, he was envious of them, loved them so much to the point where it hurt. He finally realized that the stars stayed there not to mock him, but to help him. They kept him sane, kept him going. But on nights like these, where even the stars couldn't penetrate the darkness, was when the darkness finally broke through the tiny shed of light that was the twinkle of the night sky and destroyed him from the inside out.

One of these days, he knew the stars would never be able to get back in, and the thought terrified him. So Percy just sat up, swiped at his eyes, and decided to once again ignore the pain. He shoved it back into his mask of emotionless, bottled it up with the endless drops of sadness, and ignore the throb of them trying to break free.

He was running on his last ounce of happiness, and he didn't know how much longer it could keep going before it finally succumbed to the pound of his inner self. Perhaps it would falter tomorrow, perhaps never. After all, ignorance was the mask Percy wore best.

 **HERE'S THE ORIGNIAL AUTHOR'S NOTE I WROTE IN 2015 OMG BLAST FROM THE PAST. A/N: O_o What the hell did I just write?** ** _2016 note to author's note: Sometime you're trying to make seem more twisted than it was._**

 **My apologies if this was sloppy, this literally had no planning. I began writing at almost 1 AM and now it is 2:20. I'm tired, I don't know why I wrote that, but suddenly I was in the notes section of my phone typing away and telling a story.**

 **I feel like the part about Arthur and Percy's birthday was unnatural and forced but I'm not sure.**

 **Oh well, I hope you enjoyed it.**

 **-Chemical Violets**


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